


#Goals

by buttsbeyondbutts



Series: Lives AU [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bottom Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Pennywise (IT), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Top Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsbeyondbutts/pseuds/buttsbeyondbutts
Summary: Eddie comes to Richie's show.





	#Goals

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Richie Tozier!"

Blitzkrieg Bop blasted through the sound system as Richie jogged up to the microphone. He grinned and waved to the crowd but his shoulders were way too high. His usual stubble was now half a beard. He sounded tired, and a little sick, as he thanked his audience for being there and launched into his first joke.

Then he saw Eddie. He froze, his hand on the mic. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Richie grinned. Not the usual showbiz grin he always wore on stage but the genuine, uncensored Richie Tozier grin, like the sun was shinning out of his face. 

Eddie grinned back and waved.

"Eddie!" The microphone caught every inch of suprise and delight. Richie popped it back into place without ever taking his eyes off Eddie. The smile fell off Eddie's face the minute he realized what was happening. Richie hopped off stage, squeezed passed the tables, and kissed him. The smile returned because well, Richie had kissed him. When Richie kissed him, Eddie smiled. That was just physics.

"What are you doing here?" Richie said, still holding Eddie's face. "What's wrong?"

_You've been on the road for two months. _"Nothing! I wanted to see you." Eddie said. Without Richie's lips on his, Eddie became acutely aware of the crowd around him. Some teen at the next table filmed them on her phone. 

Richie didn't appear to notice. His grin turned goofy. "You know you're in Michigan, right?"

"I wanted to suprise you!"

"It worked! I talked to you this morning! Did you drive here?"

"I took a plane. Richie-"

"You hate planes!"

"Richie-"

"Fuck, Eds!" Richie pulled him into a warm embrace, "You got on a plane for me!"

"Richie, you have a show." Eddie said, forcing himself to pull back.

Richie glanced around, suddenly remembered the dozens of people who paid money to see him. "Right. Yes." He gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you." 

Eddie sat down, blushing violently, as Richie scrambled back on stage.

"Forgive the delay, folks, my boyfriend's here!" The crowd dutifully applauded. "Thank you. I didn't expect to see him tonight! I didn't expect to have a boyfriend because I was in the closet for forty years!"

That got a genuine applause and a few laughs from the surrounding tables. "Obviously I stayed in the closet, look at me!" Eddie couldn't stop. "This is the effect of enforced heterosexuality, folks! Beer belly, bad posture, halitosis! This is prime homouflage. Nothing says 'I'm straight' like being aggressively unattractive to women."

Everyone laughed. Richie grinned soaking in their adoration. The rest of his set went beautifully. Watching Richie perform felt like watching Motzart play. Except Richie's instrument was his audience. They laughed at everything he said, exactly when he wanted them to. Everything fell into place so neatly, it seemed effortless. Like Richie was just having a conversation with a hundred people at once.

Eddie thought he was the only person there who realized how effortless it wasn't. He'd watched the efforts in person. Richie scibbled through a dozen notebooks only he could read, practiced in front of the bathroom mirror, spitting out toothpaste after each punchline. A million open mics in a million dingy bars gave birth to this set, a hundred percent new and a hundred percent true. Richie talked about their childhood ("You have to be straight in Maine. They put it on your birth certificate. 'Male. Six Pounds, Eight Inches, loves box'."), meeting Eddie ("You know how when you love someone, you have to annoy the shit out of him?") and the general insanity of being so deep in the closet that he didn't even know he was in the closet ("Nothing gay about getting your dick sucked." "Yeah, getting your dick sucked by Clive seems a little gay, Richard!") He omitted the evil clown that ultimately brought them back together. Eddie wasn't sure if Richie was worried about people thinking he was insane or if even he couldn't make Pennywise funny. Everything else could be made funny but Pennywise, dead as disco, still brought them nightmares. 

"Then I saw Eddie for the first time in over two decades and I'm suddenly thirteen years old." The audience cooed. "No, it's terrible! Because I saw this sarcastic five foot nine hypocondriac with a wife at home, and thought 'I need twelve of him.' Because now I know what love means and for the first time in forty years, I can't bullshit my way around it. So now I have to come out or move in under his porch like a fucking rescue dog and hope he looks at me once a month."When he smiled through the laughter and applause, he smiled at Eddie. "I kinda did both."

The 45 minute set passed in a blink. Richie put the mic back in it's stand, raised his arms over his head and grinned. "Thank you so much! My name is Richie Tozier! Good night!"

He got a standing ovation as he jumped off the stage again, jogging back to Eddie. Richie kissed him again, hugging Eddie as close as possible.

"That was great," Eddie said, as soon as he got his tongue back. "You were amazing!"

"Yeah?" Richie slid his hands into the back pocket of Eddie's jeans. 

Eddie nodded. "Yeah. Actually funny."

Richie laughed and kissed him again. "Shit, Eds. I can't believe you came! Did you eat yet? Let's get dinner!"

Richie got free meals for being "the talent" but he never ate before a preformace. They got cheese burgers at the club bar. Every few minutes someone came up to tell Richie how funny he was. 

"You two are adorable!" the waitress told Eddie. "You're so lucky!"

"I know." Eddie smiled as Richie squeezed his hand. 

Richie put his arm around Eddie's shoulder as they walked back to his car. "I can't believe you're here," he said again. "I missed you!"

"Missed you too," Eddie said. He turned his face into Richie's coat and breathed in that distinct oder of cigarette smoke and Irish Spring soap. He hated road shows, when their apartment was still full of Richie smells but no actual Richie. The little Noho apartment they shared felt too big without his presence. So Eddie took a dramamine and got on a plane for the first time in a decade to go see his boyfriend. He endured recycled air, creepy uber drivers and the general filth of Detroit to see Richie Tozier. And it was worth it.

"I love you, Richie."

"Terrible idea," Richie muttered. He kissed his hair. "I love you too."

They spent the ride back to the hotel talking. Eddie told him about work, the flight from LA, and a dozen other unimportant things. Richie listened with rapt attention, grinning all the while. 

The Motel Six looked like the opening of a Criminal Minds episode but he'd gone to worse places with Richie by his side. After Neibolt street a cheap motel looked like a sink full of dirty dishes.

Of course Eddie hated dirty dishes.

"It's not much," Richie said, sliding his key in the door.

It wasn't anything. Plain white walls with a mounted TV, across from a Queen bed with-

"Richie, are those Batman sheets?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Richie pushed his glasses up as he often did when nervous or embarrassed. "I kept hearing your voice in my head going on and on about how gross hotels are so I bought some road sheets. Y'know so I know they're clean."

Eddie tackled him. They fell down onto the clean sheets, kissing furiously. Absolutely no one would call them adorable if they could see Eddie's tongue in Richie's throat. He straddled Richie, feeling his cock rise under his jeans. They rutted like teenagers, like guys in their forties making up for lost time.

"Eds," Richie said, breathless beneath him. "You're gonna make me cream my shorts, baby."

"So take 'em off," Eddie said. He undid his own slacks and shrugged them away. "You wear too many fucking clothes anyway."

Richie didn't need telling twice. He tore off his clothes like they burned him and in a minute they were back on top of each other. Eddie pushed his boyfriend down onto clean Batman sheets. He kissed him. He kissed his neck and his chest, ran his tongue across his perfect shaking body.

Richie didn't lie in his act. He had a beer paunch. He slouched. His morning breath was truly rancid. He was covered in body hair, some of which had actually started to gray.

He was perfect. Eddie could have looked at him for hours except that they'd have to stop kissing. After five weeks apart, Eddie wanted a lot more than kissing.

He leaned in close, pressing their bodies together, and whispered in Richie's ear. "I want to fuck you."

Richie's eyes shone behind his glasses. "Crazy coincidence, Ed. I want you to fuck me."

Eddie grinned. "Knees or back?"

"I want to see you," Richie said. His voice was so hot. Eddie wondered how his glasses didn't fog up.

"I got lube in my suit case." Eddie said, even though his suitcase was all the way over at the door. 

Richie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Nightstand."

Eddie glanced two feet to the right, a heroic task with naked Richie Tozier beneath him. A half empty bottle of lube stood next to a notebook and Richie's medication. _Half full, _Eddie corrected himself. _Better be an optimist if you're getting everything you wanted._

"Do I wanna know what you were using this for?" He asked, coating his fingers in the cool goo. 

Richie shrugged. "You were in LA. I had to-" he inhaled sharpening as Eddie slipped the first finger inside him. "Make due! Eddie!"

"Yeah?" Eddie kept his voice casual, even as his heart raced. "What did you do?"

He slid another finger carefully inside, stretching Richie open. Richie trembled around him, hips rolling higher. "Fucked myself, pretended it was you." He whispered huskily. "Every night, Eds, trying to convince myself I had your fingers in me."

He stretched his ass again, a little more, coaxing the space. "Did it work?"

Richie keened and shook his head. He couldn't speak for a few minutes, spasming against Eddie. Eddie's cock twitched just looking at him. "Never." Richie said with a heavy gasp. "Needed you. Love you!"

"I know, baby," Eddie said. He stroked Richie's cheek with his free hand. Richie turned into the touch, letting his lips scrape on Eddie knuckles. "I love you."

Another finger, a few more stretches, and Richie was ready to burst. Of course that wouldn't shut him up. He just got a lot less coherent. He mostly said Eddie's name, or some variety thereof, and begged him to hurry up. Eddie went slow. He didn't want to accidently hurt Richie by rushing things. He'd waited so long, he wanted to do everything right. He savored every tight gasp, every muscle spasm, every muffled profanity and prayer. Richie looked so perfect like this, writhing under Eddie's touch. With the preparation finally complete, as Eddie's cock pushed inside of him, Richie felt perfect too.

"Eddie!" Richie cried rising to met him. "Eds- Eddie, fuck! I missed you! I love you so much."

"You feel so fucking good, Rich. You're goddamn beautiful, Richie."

"Don't stop!" Richie gasped as Eddie sets a pounding rhythm against his prostate. "Eddie, don't stop, don't ever stop!"

Eddie couldn't stop if he wanted to. He'd never want to either, not with Richie shuddering around him, egging him on. His long legs wrapped around Eddie's waist, pulling himself closer. Between them, Richie's cock twitched and leaked with precum. Eddie knew he could come from fucking alone. They'd spent months figuring out exactly how to make each other happy. Richie called it the best crash course he ever took. Eddie was inclined to agree. Before Richie, Eddie could count his sexual experiences on one hand with a missing thumb. Now he knew things. He knew he liked to be on top. He liked the control. He liked men. He liked Richie so much he didn't care that the streets were clean, or that neither of them had brushed their teeth. He cared about the man trembling at his touch, who in turn listened to his rants close enough to buy the actually clean sheets that Eddie didn't care about.

"Thought about you every night, baby," Eddie shifted forward as Richie moaned. "Pictured you just like this, so fucking tight and good for me."

"Ed-" Richie couldn't manage much more than that. He reached up, groping for any part he could reach. He landed on Eddie's right side, gripping hard on the long faded scar as his orgasm ripped through him.

Eddie wasn't far behind. He came inside Richie, rocketing against him, shouting his name. He collapsed down on top of him, not caring about the significant pool of jizz on his belly. He could be covered in all the shit and piss of Derry and Eddie would still want to touch Richie. He already had.

"Eds," Richie kissed him. Richie didn't exactly go quiet after sex but his vocabulary became significantly smaller. "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie."

Eddie smiled. He kept his hand on Richie's cheek, toying with his curly brown hair. "Don't sleep with your glasses on."

"I wanna see you." Richie whispered.

"Buddy, you can feel me."

"Hell yeah, I can!" Richie pressed his face, glasses still attached, into Eddie's neck. "You know you're very good at that, Dr. K."

"Oh, did you like it? Couldn't really tell."

"Oh was I being subtle?" Richie rolled on top of him and kissed Eddie's neck. "You know I almost went down on you at the show tonight?"

"They probably wouldn't comp your food after that."

"Fuck you, they'd give me a residency." He lay down again, a comfortable weight on Eddie's chest. His breath steadied, soft and content. "How long can you stay?"

"How long are you staying?"

"Two more nights. Then I'm booked in Chi-town for the rest of the week."

"So I'll stay two more nights and then go to Chi-town for the rest of the week." Eddie said. "Even though it's Chicago and only Douche Bags say Chi-town."

Richie blinked hard, like he was going to cry. "Eds,"

"Yeah, I love you too." Eddie kissed him. Richie didn't let him pull back, just held him close until the wave of emotion subsided. "Go to sleep, Nerd."

"You wound me, Eduardo." Richie chuckled. "How can I sleep with such a virile champion of a man next to me?"

Eddie took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. Richie kept talking, obviously. He grabbed his t-shirt from the floor and wiped his stomach cleaned before pulling Eddie back into his arms. They lay together, still talking, until their words started to slur together. Richie fell asleep first, mumbling against Eddie's shoulder. He drooled. Eddie didn't care. He should get up and turn off the light, use the bathroom and brush his teeth. He didn't. Instead he closed his eyes and fell asleep to his boyfriend's voice.

* * *

Sleep lasted for about four hours. He was, after everything, still Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Kaspbrak, after everything, still needed a shower and a toothbrush and his medication before actual sleep.

It was quick though. Eddie's meds no longer required their own suitcase as most of his "lifelong conditions" turned out to be made up. He could also manage with a five minute shower, rather than a whole half hour of scrubbing and inspecting. He could turn off the lights and slip back to bed before Richie noticed he was gone.

"Eddie," Of course Richie talked in his sleep. After a few weeks together, Eddie learned to differentiate between the words he should respond to and the ones that only mattered to Richie's subconscious. He brushed his fingers across curly, sweaty hair, listening to his lover's somniloquy. 

"Eddie," Richie muttered, "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie."

"Yeah?" Sometimes, if you encouraged him right, Richie could have full conversations in his sleep. "What's up?"

Richie snuggled closer. His fingers spasmed and closed in Eddie's hair. "Eddie," his voice cracked, "Eds- Eddie."

"Richie?" 

He was shaking now. Small tears rolled down his cheeks. Something was wrong. "Eddie-"

"Hey!" Eddie grabbed his shoulder and shook. "Richie, wake up! Richie!"

Richie woke with a start. He blinked and stared, eyes wide. With a strangled cry, he pulled Eddie into a rib crushing embrace. "Eddie!"

"Yeah, hey." Eddie patted his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Richie shuddered in his arms. He buried hid face in Eddie's neck, still talking. Eddie couldn't understand much but he caught a couple apologies.

"Hey," he pulled back, just far enough that he could hold Richie's face and make him meet his eyes. "You're ok. I'm okay. Breathe with me."

Richie breathed. In for four, out for three. In for five, out for four. Keep a little breath inside your lungs until your heart slows down.

"Deadlights?"

Richie nodded. Eddie clicked his tongue in sympathy. Richie's nightmares had tapered off significantly a few months after the final battle. At the year mark, Eddie had dared to hope they were gone for good but... you don't almost die fighting a shapeshifting fear monster without some residual PTSD. It didn't help that there were exactly four other people they could talk to about Pennywise, and only one other person who survived the Deadlights. Bev still had nightmares too.

"Do you wanna talk?"

Richie shook his head. "That fucking clown's in my head, Eds. I watched you die, right in front of me, and he kept singing."

Eddie shivered. Dead lights and trauma made a very creepy cocktail. Richie didn't just watch Eddie die over and over again. He watched him die to the sound track of that fucking giggle. _Eddie's deadie! Eddie's deadie! Richie, Richie drowning in the ditchie!_

"Hey," Eddie kissed him. "It didn't fucking happen, Richie. It didn't happen because you saved me. Remember?"

Richie nodded. They weren't likely to forget. A few extra milliseconds of shock, a couple of centimeters to the left and Eddie would've been buried under Neibolt with the clown. He wasn't because Richie watched him die in the deadlights. Richie watched him die so he knew to push Eddie away just before the clown's claw hit. It still hit but missed the killing shot. Now Eddie had a scar instead of an obituary, because of Richie.

"It's dead." Eddie told him. "We're alive and It's dead, Richie. I promise you."

Richie nodded again. Eddie kissed him. They held on to each other for a long time, just kissing and talking. Richie calmed down and soon he was wondering what time it was.

"Oh fuck, we didn't charge our phones," Eddie was up in a minute, digging through his bag. 

Richie sighed. "I could write a song about that ass."

"Please don't." Eddie grabbed Richie's phone as well, accidentally pressing the volume button to illuminate the screen. "Holy shit!"

"What?" 

"You're trending!"

"What?!" Richie scrambled out of bed and tripped on his own shoes.

Eddie unlocked his phone and started to read. "Comic Interrupts Own Show to Kiss Boyfriend', oh there's a video."

"Eds- gimme!" Richie jumped him, grabbing at the phone.

"Get off me-" Eddie pushed him back. "Richie Tozier jumps off stage for surprise visit from boyfriend.' Ellen retweeted."

"Eddie, I swear to god!" Richie wrestled the phone away while Eddie laughed. "Holy shit, we're trending!"

"I told you!"

"You look good." Richie said, clicking the video. "I gotta shave... oh my god, this chick tagged us #goals."

Eddie stifled another laugh. "Rich, don't read the comments."

"Too late," his face was entirely illuminated by the screen now. "This could be us but you playin', aww! 'Too cute! I'm dying!' Eds, we killed someone. Oh fuck you, asshole!"

Eddie snatched the phone out of his hands. "Absolutely do not respond. First fucking rule."

"Eddie, look at what he said."

"I don't care." Eddie scrolled passed the repetitive bible verses. "Look, 'hated his old stuff but Tozier's my favorite comic working right now. The boyfriend seems like he's really good for him."

"Aww," Richie's voice went way too high. His face shone brighter than the sun. "Too cute. I'm dying."

"Don't be stupid." Eddie said. He sat down next to Richie, refusing to give back the phone. "BRB downloading everything.' 'I'd jump off his stage any day'? What does that mean?"

"Means I'm hot, babe."

"Is the stage your dick?" Eddie frowned. "Because I don't think that's a move."

"Can't know until we try," Richie raised his eyebrows suggestively. "C'mon, I haven't had sex since I got famous. I'm drying up!"

Eddie rolled his eyes and kissed him. "You don't taste famous."

"Try again?" Richie grinned. He didn't wait, just pulled Eddie up and stuck his tongue down his throat.

"C List. Maybe."

"Awesome, passing grade." He bit down on Eddie's lips, grinning all the while. Their phones fell to the dirty carpet, forgotten until the dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I am Reddie Trash and unashamed.
> 
> Please comment.


End file.
